"Even the quietest forest has ghosts lingering between its leaves."
Beatrice tied her hair back with a silk ribbon, the last remnant of her past life before the world tore itself apart, and turned toward Aether, who was inspecting a patch of moss and fungi near the base of an old tree.
"I'll go check around the eastern slope," Beatrice offered, brushing off her skirt and grabbing her satchel. "Might be something edible growing near the rocks. Maybe mushrooms—real ones this time."
Aether simply nodded, her mind a thousand miles away. The sunlight filtered through the canopy above, soft and golden, casting long slivers of light across the undergrowth. Yet inside her chest, there was only shadow. The name still echoed in her mind like a whisper behind her eyes:
>Taiji. The Umbriavagus.
She walked without really thinking, boots crushing fallen leaves beneath her. Her gaze was hollow, but her steps steady. She looked every bit like a soldier or an adventurer—but the war she was fighting now wasn't on the outside.
Inside her head, Aetherius stirred.
> "That woman... that being. She saw straight through you. It's unsettling. She knew your past, your scars... even what you haven't told me."
Aether kept her eyes forward.
"She didn't just know it, Aetherius. She showed it. Like it was hers to play with. That memory... she gave it back to me. And I didn't ask for it."
> "She gave you something else, too. A gift. You've seen it."
Aether didn't respond, but she knew. Her skill Speechcraft: Maxed. A skill beyond mortal comprehension. Persuasion, argument, charisma—mastered instantly.
"That wasn't generosity," Aether whispered in her mind. "That was a warning. A subtle threat in a beautiful package."
> "Or a test," Aetherius countered gently. "One I couldn't have given you. Whatever she is, I don't think she's interested in destroying you. Not yet."
"You said before something was interfering with our link," Aether added. "Are you sure it wasn't her?"
> "It could've been," Aetherius admitted after a pause. "But if it was… she's more powerful than I imagined. Strong enough to bend time, hide from my awareness, and tap into your soul like it's a library shelf."
Aether stopped walking.
"And yet, I didn't hate her."
There was silence.
>"I should have," she continued. "After everything. But I didn't. I couldn't. Because what's the point of hating something that could crush me between her fingers?"
She exhaled slowly.
"My heart isn't soft. It's stone now. You know that."
A rustling sound behind her snapped her out of the mental conversation. Beatrice had returned, basket half-filled with roots, herbs, and something vaguely rabbit-shaped wrapped in leaves.
"You looked miles away," Beatrice said, raising a brow. "Something on your mind?"
Aether blinked. Then, in a calm and well-measured tone—a voice practiced and sharpened like a blade—she answered.
"No," she said softly. "Just thinking how this clearing reminds me of an old textbook on medicinal herbs I read once. Same plants. Same layout. Nature doesn't change much, even after the world ends."
Beatrice tilted her head slightly.
"You're deflecting," she replied. "But… alright. Just don't let whatever it is consume you."
Aether gave a gentle smile, the kind that danced on the edge of performance and sincerity. The new skill pulsed behind her eyes—Speechcraft. Her voice took on a calm rhythm.
"I promise, if it's important, I'll tell you. But right now, I think we're all too hungry to philosophize about shadows."
Beatrice blinked. Then smirked.
"Alright, fine. I'm convinced. Let's eat before I start chewing tree bark."
She bought the lie. Partially. And Aether knew it. The words were technically true—just sculpted to distract from the greater truth. It worked.
The two women continued foraging, moving deeper into the brush.
—
After a while, Aether slowed down, brushing her fingers against the gnarled bark of an old cedar. She could feel Aetherius' presence stir again.
>"I've been meaning to ask," Aetherius said. "Why did your parents send you to that facility? They didn't even check the conditions first?"
Aether's eyes narrowed. Her voice became a whisper, only for herself and her companion of light to hear.
"They didn't have a choice."
> "What do you mean?"
"Back then… we were what you'd call a 'problem family.' On paper, we were wealthy. Secure. But wealth isn't the same as time. Or affection. My father was high-ranking—some military secret unit. Always gone. My mother… she worked more than she breathed."
Aether bent down, plucking a handful of blue-veined leaves from the base of a fern.
"When I was four, I remember looking in the mirror. That was the first time something looked back. A shadow behind my eyes. Whispering. I didn't understand it then."
> "The start of your alter ego?" Aetherius said solemnly.
"No," she replied. "The invitation to it. The shadow had a name. Alice."
The memory flickered behind her eyes—sharp, cold, horrifying.
"She came first in dreams. A voice in the dark. She told me things. About pain. About how to escape it. And then one night… she dared me to feel nothing."
> "She tried to make you end it."
"Not just end it," Aether said bitterly. "She said: 'If you truly want to be free, hurt yourself in a way that even the pain can't keep up. Because compared to the pain you feel inside, nothing you do outside will matter.'"
> "And you…?"
"I held a knife. I stared at it for hours. Then I put it away."
Silence.
"Because despite what Alice said, I still hoped someone would come home. And they did."
> "Your parents?"
"No. Auriel. She came the next day. Sat beside me. Didn't speak. Just… held my hand."
The wind blew gently through the forest. For a moment, all was still.
Later, when they returned to camp, Beatrice had a fire going. The others gathered around as the aroma of roasted meat and spiced roots filled the air.
Elena pestered Aiden about seasoning. Heather was trying to guess which part of the animal they were actually eating. Leona quietly passed out wooden bowls to each of them, her mage robes unusually dust-streaked.
Aether sat in silence, watching the firelight dance in Beatrice's eyes.
And for just a moment… it felt like a family.